


Stuck on the Slow Path

by Intrepid_Inkweaver



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intrepid_Inkweaver/pseuds/Intrepid_Inkweaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being abandoned by the Doctor and then stranded in the eighteen hundreds, Jack Harkness is thoroughly tired of the 'slow path'. When he meets a journalist pining after a certain Time Lord, the two team up to save the world when the Doctor is MIA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The year was 1977. Captain Jack Harkness was still plodding the slow path through time. He had been since 1869, and he was still searching for the man who had left him behind. When he had landed in the eighteen hundreds, he had almost given up on ever seeing the Time Lord again. He had attempted to fix the vortex manipulator, but without some more sophisticated equipment—a sonic screwdriver, perhaps—there was nothing he could do with it.

Of course, he had eventually figured out that he couldn't die. That was still a tricky question that plagued him. He did remember dying on Satellite Five with the Daleks, and he remembered coming back, too. He doubted there was anyone that could answer that question but the Doctor. Although he had haunted every strange happening he could think of, he worked for Torchwood, and sometimes for UNIT, and generally looked for trouble when it didn't find him, he hadn't yet managed to catch up to the Time Lord or his little blue box that was bigger on the inside.

Torchwood had got angry at him the last time he worked with them, most likely because he had ended up sleeping with the alien he was supposed to be keeping tabs on. That was probably why they had given him a very lame job this time around with little to no information on it. UNIT hadn't been in contact with him for quite some time, but that wasn't unusual. They were an even more closed-mouth bunch than Torchwood. Probably the military influence.

Torchwood had set him on a young woman that they felt was suspicious. They had neglected to tell him exactly why they thought she was suspicious, or what he should be looking for. The director just handed him a picture and told him where to go. For the past month he had been living in a small flat in South Croydon, following the target around and really seeing nothing but a quiet, pretty journalist with an odd love for jelly babies. She hadn't even been investigating things that would be of interest to Torchwood. Jack honestly couldn't see why they wanted him watching her.

It was about seven in the morning and he was heading towards his favorite coffee shop for breakfast. He had found it when he had been following his mark one morning. She had wandered in and ordered coffee and sat for an hour making notes in her omnipresent notebook. He hadn't seen her in there since then, but it had become a haunt of his own that he had become quite fond of.

Sitting out on the patio, he enjoyed a Danish and cup of excellent coffee, wondering vaguely if it was going to rain again today. Just then, a familiar head of thick brown hair caught his eye. She went into the shop and Jack's brows furrowed. She shouldn't have been able to leave her house without triggering an alert for him. Maybe some of his equipment had gone faulty? His mark ordered a coffee and turned around to look out through the glass. She pierced him with a razor sharp green gaze, and suddenly he wished he could just up and leave. Carefully, he picked up his Danish and took a bite as casually as he possibly could.

With a cup of coffee and a bag that contained a doughnut, she walked out of the shop and up to his table. He was the only one outside, so there was no reason for her to have to sit anywhere near him, but she stopped at his table.

With a brilliant smile she asked, "May I?" The sharp edge had not left her eyes, however, and somehow the smile seemed predatory.

"Of course," he replied with a smile that normally could melt anyone. He held out a hand. "Captain Jack Harkness," he said as she took his hand and gave it a surprisingly firm handshake.

"Sarah Jane Smith," she answered, sitting down across from him. "So, what do you think of this place?" she asked conversationally.

"They make a great cup of coffee. I come here almost every morning."

She nodded with a smile. "I used to, a long time ago. I can't make coffee to save my life."

Jack ate his pastry as fast as he could without looking suspicious and all the while, Sarah Jane sat and pecked at her doughnut like a bird. She seemed intent on letting him know that she wasn't afraid of him. Or maybe he had just been imagining the knowing look in her eyes and the surveillance malfunction was just a coincidence. Right, sure. If Torchwood had him watching her, that was about as likely as Nixon getting re-elected as president.

Finishing of his breakfast he stood up. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Miss Smith. Enjoy your coffee."

"Nice meeting you, too, Captain." She put just enough sarcasm in the title that anyone not looking for it wouldn't have noticed it. As he walked away he could feel her gaze boring into his back. It was definitely time to check up on his surveillance alarms.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah Jane Smith had never been an idiot. She had never been stupid—quite the opposite, actually. After traveling with the Doctor for so long, now she also could notice things that no one else would—like the tiny devices planted all about her house, or the fact that she saw people watching her much too often for comfort. The Doctor may have left her behind, but there was no way she was just going to let go of everything she had learned in her travels with him.

Finally, when she had seen the man in the American in the old military overcoat one too many times, she decided it was time to act. The surveillance equipment in her house wasn't particularly difficult for her to sabotage, and she had made note that the man went to the same coffee shop that she had once frequented back when life was so much simpler. He wouldn't see her coming, so it would be easier to confront him. She had debated on asking the Brigadier for assistance, but then decided to handle it herself. People might see it as foolish, but she was tired of asking for help when she could handle things herself. If he or Harry ever found out, she would get an earful, but for the moment she was satisfied with her decision.

Despite the fact that she knew he was stalking her, the man really didn't look like a scary type. Even from afar he had a charm to him, a magnetism that pulled you in. she had once purposely bumped into him at the grocery and got a good look at his face. There was no malice in his blue eyes, and she really doubted that even the best actor could fake that. The eyes were the windows to the soul, after all. There was also the fact that he was one of the best looking men she had ever seen. He could probably charm the treasure from a dragon with that smile of his.

She hadn't really looked at men in a very long time. She had other, more important things on her mind. Besides, none of them could ever stand up to the man that had abandoned her—no matter how good looking.

As she expected, he was at the coffee shop, and the quickly hidden shock on his face revealed the success of her sabotage. She could plainly see his discomfort as she sat at his table and ate her doughnut. It wasn't as though she had learned a lot about him—just his name—but she still felt that the endeavor had been a success. She was fairly certain that he had been sent by someone—why else would he be doing things the way he had been? She was also fairly certain that they didn't want her dead. But why would anyone be interested in her? The only thing that had ever mattered about her—besides the fact that she sometimes got into trouble with her stories—was the Doctor, and he had been gone now for over a year. It was clear to her now that he wasn't coming back for her, no matter how long she sat and stared at the stars in the hope that somehow he would hear her pleas and return for her.

Tonight she was having dinner with Harry, who was going on a trip to America in the morning and wouldn't be home for a few weeks. She would miss him—he was the one that seemed to understand her best out of everyone that was left here with her. And yet, there was still that fact that he had chosen in no uncertain terms to stay behind on Earth when she never would have. She debated on telling him about this Captain Jack Harkness, but he would probably feel the need to tell the Brigadier. She still wasn't ready to get UNIT involved in this.

With a bag of groceries on her arm, she made her way back to her house to continue work on the book about UNIT that she had been working on since getting the Brig's approval. She was also working on a fantasy book about a man from another world and his young human companion. It made for interesting, if heartbreaking, work. Sometimes she had trouble keeping it going.

Considering the next chapter, she didn't notice the shadow behind her, or what it was attached to. She felt a pain in the back of her head, and felt her knees buckling beneath her as the world went dark. Her last thought was that she had nothing to worry about. The Doctor would surely come to her rescue.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Sullivan had never been impatient. He had always been the laid back sort of man that was needed to relax nervous patients. Today had been different, though. He had a nagging feeling of dread picking at the back of his neck all day. At one time, he might have ignored it, written it off as simply his nerves, but since traveling with the Doctor and working for UNIT, he had learned that there was much to be learned from human instinct. Many times he had had to rely on his instinct to keep him alive.

When Sarah Jane didn't show up at the restaurant where the two of them were scheduled to have dinner, the feeling that he had been having all day intensified. After waiting for her for over an hour, swirling his drink nervously, he left and decided to stop at her house. There was no answer at the door. For a few moments he debated on calling UNIT right then. If this was something silly, though, then not only would the Brigadier be irritated with him, Sarah Jane would likely be ready to strangle him.

Then again, if something had happened to her, he would never forgive himself. So he hoped Sarah would forgive him and tried the door knob. It was unlocked, which was very unlike her. Even when at home, she locked the door. With trepidation, Harry quietly opened the door and stepped inside. Straining his ears for any noise, he stood as still as possible for moment. Hearing nothing, he moved further into the house, still attempting to keep up the silence.

Unfortunately, he was Harry Sullivan the imbecile and whenever there was something to step in or trip over, his feet managed to find it. The ugly giant clams in the caves of Skarro still gave him nightmares. As he turned a corner, he missed the umbrella stand because of the darkness and managed to run full into it, resulting in it crashing to the floor with a loud bang and much clattering.

Mentally cursing himself, he once more stood silently still, but heard nothing—neither suspicious footsteps nor an angry Sarah Jane demanding to know who had entered her house uninvited. In a way, that made him even more anxious. He wondered if he should call UNIT after all. He was already in the house, though, so he might as well take a look around and see if the sassy journalist had left anything to show where she might be and if she was in danger.

He made his way through the house, upstairs and down, even checking the basement. There was no sign of Sarah Jane, or of what might have happened to her. Everything was in its rightful place; there was no sign of a struggle. Deciding to check her office again to see if there were any notes on an article she might be working on, Harry turned to go back upstairs. A loud clattering and a curse from the entrance way made him freeze. Someone was in the house.

Passing through the living room, he picked up an iron poker from the fireplace. Stepping out to where the intruder could see him, he brandished the poker threateningly.

"Who are you and what are you doing in this house?" he demanded. He couldn't see the other man very well because of the darkness, but he could see he was tall and was wearing a long over-coat. He had tensed upon seeing Harry, but had partially relaxed since while still managing to look tightly coiled.

"I could ask you the same question," he answered in a distinctly American drawl. Harry saw his hand move toward his jacket.

"Hold still! Keep your hands away from your sides!" Harry moved closer, into the range of the poker so he could use it if he needed to. The other man took the warning and the hint and held his hands out.

"Now, tell me what has happened to Sarah Jane."


	4. Chapter 4

Jack silently berated himself for his stupidity. He should have known better than to walk into the house before checking to see if anyone had come home. He had first come around when he knew that Sarah Jane had a dinner date with a friend. He had checked on the mini camera that he had placed around the house and found that, indeed, Sarah Jane had sabotaged them. They were all disassembled and tossed in the trash bin. Briefly, he wondered if she knew he would come to check on them and he had been meant to see them thrown in the trash.

He would have to install the new ones that he had retrieved from the Torchwood agent that had met him several weeks ago to check his progress. The new cameras were smaller and easier to place, but they weren't quite as reliable as the old ones. Finding hiding places for them was considerably easier, however, and that made up for the lesser quality.

As he had begun installing the last of the cameras, he realized that he was out of the special double-sided tape he used to affix the cameras. Annoyed, he had quickly cleaned up his mess and left the house. Once he had retrieved the tape, he would return if there was no one in the house. He took a glance at the feed from the cameras he had managed to install and saw the house still empty. It didn't look like Sarah Jane was planning on coming home tonight.

When he returned, he realized he had left the door unlocked. What was with him today? It seemed like he was making all kinds of stupid mistakes. Stepping into the dark house, he almost immediately tripped over the fallen umbrella stand that definitely had still been upright when he left. Right then, he considered turning around and leaving. One thing stopped him: it almost certainly wasn't Sarah Jane in the house. In all the time that he had been watching her, the journalist had never tripped over that umbrella stand—or anything else in the house for that matter—even when it was completely dark. She knew the layout of the house like the back of her hand. There was someone here that wasn't supposed to be here—someone other than Jack. Once again, he cursed himself for not locking the door.

Whoever it was that was now in the house could be out to hurt Sarah Jane, and that wasn't something Jack was going to let happen. He had become quite fond of the woman. He was sure Torchwood would highly disapprove of becoming attached to a mark, but he couldn't help it. She reminded him of someone he had lost a long time ago, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.

Unfortunately, before he could shift into stalk-mode—or even pull out his gun, for that matter—someone was demanding to know why he was in the house and threatening him with an iron fire poker. Even as he went instinctually for the gun under his coat, the man demanded he keep his hands away from his sides. Jack decided to cooperate. Besides, the man looked familiar, and he was trying to remember why.

It hit him then—after the other man demanded to know what had happened to Sarah Jane—that this was the friend that she had gone to dinner with tonight. Or was supposed to have. Dr. Harry Sullivan, formerly a medical officer for UNIT, now with a practice of his own. (Supposedly. Some said he still secretly worked for UNIT, but it was little more than a vague suspicion.) Jack hadn't bothered to do much more research on him than that because the doctor was going to be in America for over a month. Now he thought it might have been a good idea to check a little bit further into him.

"I swear I don't know where Sarah Jane is. I'm a consultant for UNIT and they wanted me to keep an eye on her." It wasn't completely a lie, just misleading.

"Why would UNIT send a consultant to spy on Sarah?" demanded Sullivan.

"They wanted to be inconspicuous. They think there's something following her," Jack lied. Sullivan was currently staring him down, obviously trying to figure out whether or not to trust him. He had the distinct feeling it was only a matter of time before he got an iron poker over his head.


	5. Chapter 5

"Name." Harry finally demanded. He was already certain the man was lying, but he didn't think he knew anything about where Sarah was. UNIT definitely didn't send him though.

The man hesitated before answering, "Captain Jack Harkness." Harry blinked. And blinked again. And almost laughed. Captain Harkness was giving him a strange look.

"You're not here for UNIT," stated Harry, "You work for Torchwood."

Harkness looked shocked for a moment before neutralizing his expression. "How do you know about Torchwood?" he finally asked. Harry noticed he didn't try to deny it the way he thought he might.

"Torchwood isn't quite as secret as you lot seem to think it is. We have files on many of your operatives. Considering the fact that you've actually worked with UNIT before, I don't think that should surprise you so much."

Harkness shrugged, offhandedly. "Guess they should have realized that one."

Harry nodded. "Now, why are you here? Why are you following Sarah Jane and where is she now?" He brandished the poker threateningly. "You aren't going to find the Doctor through her. She doesn't need anybody reminding her of that. She's finally starting to adjust to normal life again."

Harkness opened his mouth and closed it again. "Sarah Jane traveled with the Doctor?" he inquired, looking slightly shell-shocked.

"Well…That's what Torchwood is after her for, isn't it?" asked Harry. He knew Torchwood was interested in the Doctor—they always had been. That seemed like it would have been the most likely reason to go after Sarah Jane. She had been his best friend, after all.

The Captain shook his head. "They didn't tell me why I was keeping an eye on her. Now I see why." He pierced Harry with an intense gaze. "I used to travel with the Doctor, too. I would never allow them to hurt either him or one of his companions."

Harry sighed and found he trusted Harkness to not attack him while he rubbed his eyes. "So who took Sarah Jane if not you?" he muttered. It seemed he would always be dealing with the effects of the Doctor despite choosing to remain on Earth. Sarah Jane was his best friend, and he was supposed to try to keep her safe—though really, most of the time the old girl was perfectly capable of keeping herself safe.

"I'll help you find her," said Harkness. "Don't worry, I won't give her over to Torchwood, either." He smiled when Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, that's very comforting. Where do we start?"


	6. Chapter 6

The first thing Sarah Jane registered when she came to was that it was very cold. The second was the pounding in her head. Perhaps it said something that the headache was less puzzling than the cold. While traveling with the Doctor, she had been struck over the head numerous times. That was nothing new. But, it had only been a bit cool at home. Where ever she was now it was freezing. The bench she was laying on wasn't helping either. It might as well have been a block of ice.

Finally, she decided she could deduce nothing else from behind her lids, so she decided to open her eyes. The light was dim, for which she was thankful. The room was small and square, the walls a smooth, tan stone. It seemed almost as if she were in some sort of box, because there were no doors or windows—the walls were featureless but for the bench where she was situated and a small shelf, both of which were the same stone and stuck out seamlessly from the wall.

Slowly, she sat up and groaned as it felt like someone was taking a sledge hammer to her head. Just then, a cubby in the wall behind the shelf opened up to reveal a glass of water and a small saucer with a piece of bread and butter and a pill. A short note lay next to the offering reading, "For the pain." At least her captors were considerate.

She sincerely hoped that they weren't trying to poison her, because her head hurt enough that she was going to take the pill. She noted the fact that the water was flavored and somewhat carbonated. Almost as soon as she swallowed, her head began to clear up. Vaguely she wondered if the headache wasn't from the blow, but from some sort of drug. She wondered how long she had been out.

Fearing setting off the headache again, she got up slowly and carefully, but nothing happened. She circled around the cell, looking for cameras or cracks to indicate where the door was—or anything really. There was nothing. Finally, she yelled,

"Hello? Is anyone there? Let me go! Or at least tell me why I was kidnapped! UNIT will be looking for me, you know…." She trailed off since it didn't seem like anyone was listening. Even if it was, threats didn't work all that well when you were in what appeared to be an impenetrable prison.

Just then, there was a buzzing sound, and the whole front wall of her prison turned into a translucent glass-like material to reveal four humanoid figures. The wall didn't allow her to pick out details, only vague silhouettes. One of them was taller than the other three. The tallest stepped forward towards the wall and spoke. Her voice—for she sounded female—came over a speaker somewhere hidden in the cell.

"You are here because your name is Sarah Jane Smith," stated the voice.

Sarah couldn't help but roll her eyes a little. Typical of aliens, to be all cryptic at the worst times. "What does my name have to do with anything? Why have you brought me here?"

"Sarah Jane Smith is known to be a Child of Time, one who has traveled with the Time Lord known as Doctor. We have brought Sarah Jane Smith here because she will help us find him."

Great, now they were talking about her in third person. "Who says I'm going to help you find him? Even if I wanted to—which I don't—I couldn't tell you. Apparently whatever source happened to tell you where to find me didn't inform you that he left me behind."

"You do not need to know where he is to help us find him. Your bio-data is now tangled with his and his TARDIS. We shall follow it."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. That sounded like a whole lot of gobbledy-gook to her, but she doubted that they would try to explain it. "Why do you want to find the Doctor for anyway? He tends to be very difficult to catch. I think it would be easier for you to just pack up and go home rather than try it." Sarah said confidently. It was worth a shot.

"He owes us a debt," the woman said before turning around and walking away from the cell. As her entourage turned to follow, the wall of glass returned to its former state.

Sarah sighed and slumped onto the ledge.

"Well that was an informative conversation," she muttered to herself. She leaned back and shut her eyes. Maybe if she just slept a little, the problem would go away. After all, she was so…sleepy….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's the end of the already finished chapters. I haven't even started chapter seven yet. I've had a writer's block hanging around. Comments might help me work faster, though...  
> ~II


End file.
